


It smelled like turpentine

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Falling In Love, Love Potion/Spell, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco sees <i>her</i> brewing a love potion for Potter, and steals it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It smelled like turpentine

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Sex under the influence of a 'love potion'. Sex in a public place. Eighth Year Fic. EWE.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Draco watched her work for _days_.

Gathering ingredients when she thought no one was looking and dropping them in the cauldron. “Just practicing,” she’d tell the professor. “I want to be a Potions Master so I need to start early. My parents are willing to pay for extra ingredients…” she’d insist and argue until Slughorn would agree to let her stay in the classroom unsupervised.

 _Unsupervised_. Draco scoffed. He was always in the room, too, but she’d barely notice. No one noticed. That’s why he was able to get away with it, too.

He watched her slave over the potion. 

At first he didn’t know what it was, it looked like Amortentia, but he wasn’t sure. Then, he’d caught a glimpse of her notes and realised it was more than that. It wasn’t just a love potion, it was Dark. More Dark than the likes of Hogwarts; more Dark than the professors would have allowed, and dark occurrences always happened here, no matter what people said.

It was a joke to think otherwise.

The potion she was brewing wouldn’t just make the recipient fall in love with you, but get obsessed. They’d hang on your every word, and do whatever you desired of them. It was the Darkest of the lust potions and she knew it. And he knew _who_ she was brewing it for. Draco found it comical that she was trying again, that after all her failed attempts to kindle a relationship with Potter—she was trying _again_.

The day _finally_ arrived.

After what weeks of practice, the potion was ready to be tested on the recipient. Draco wasn’t sure how she was going to do it, so he had watched her carefully. Potter didn’t sit next to her in the Great Hall or the few classes they shared, Potter had surrounded himself with his friends. Draco knew that Potter was avoiding her just as much as she was _trying_ to get his attention.

The thing about the potion was this: when drinking from it, the recipient had to look right at the person who meant to use it on them. Meaning, she’d have to hand Potter the potion, and he’d have to be looking at her right before and right when he drank it. 

He thought long and hard of when she'd do it. When she could have done it and he wouldn't have a choice. He heard the shouts of some students as they walked past the classroom. Everyone was excited about the next game. It was the semi-finals. 

_Quidditch practice!_

The answer was easy. She was probably going to mix the potion in Potter’s water bottle! No, she was _definitely_ going to mix the potion in Potter’s water bottle. Draco had overheard her speaking to her friends about attending the next practice. How she wanted to see _her hero_ in action.

He watched her as she placed the phial in her bag and left the classroom. She was still not acknowledging – intentionally or not – Draco's presence. He followed her. 

He murmured a misdirection spell as she walked around the corner and then she bumped into the wall. Students from across the hall came running to her rescue and Draco flicked his wand again as her bag went flying in the opposite direction. She was too disoriented to notice at first so Draco took the opportunity and grabbed the phial from her bag and slid her bag back towards her. 

By the time she got her bearings, Draco was gone. 

Pleased with himself at the success of his endeavour, Draco headed to the Quidditch Pitch. He watched as the Gryffindor team trained, Weasley dodging the Bludger, and Granger cringing about it every time. When the session was over, the team got ready to head over to the changing rooms; Draco decided to do the same.

Potter was the last one to arrive in the changing rooms and he headed directly towards the shower. Draco placed a Notice-Me-Not spell on himself so no one else in the changing room would realise he was there. He knew that Potter stayed late in the rooms and waited for everyone else to leave first. 

Just like he’d watched _her_ , Draco had watched Potter, too.

One by one, the room emptied out, and Potter came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked through his things, obviously looking for his water bottle; Draco removed the spell from himself.

“Thirsty, Potter?” Draco called out.

“Malfoy!” Potter took a step back, his eyes widening.

Draco had startled Potter, even though he had tried to not reveal himself so suddenly.

“What…what are you doing here?” Potter’s brows furrowed. 

“I watched you at practice,” Draco said, his tone even. He wasn’t really sure how he’d explain that part to Potter. He’d not really thought about it. “You look…parched.”

“Yeah, I’m looking for my—”

“Here,” Draco said offering the bottle to Potter. The potion had to be mixed with another liquid for at least five minutes so it could work correctly. Draco knew that just a drop of the potion would do the job if it was digested raw, but if it was mixed, he’d need to make sure that it was blended thoroughly.

Potter eyed him questioningly but didn’t hesitate to take the bottle. He took a sip and looked back at Draco. “Why do you have this?”

“It was empty, so I filled it for you,” Draco replied. 

“Why were you going through my things?” Potter asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Drink up, Potter,” Draco said, and Potter obliged.

When he nearly finished the entire thing, Draco’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. Now what he was going to do next time, wait for a new batch of potion?

“So, why are you here?” Potter asked giving Draco a once over.

Draco didn’t answer. It was now or never. He walked up a step closer to Potter who didn’t even flinch, and didn’t step back. He only watched Draco, as if he were challenging him. Draco took another step.

They were standing face to face, so close that Draco could feel Potter’s breath on him, and take in the scent of his soap. He smelled magnificent. 

“Kiss me,” Draco commanded and Potter didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Draco by the waist and pulled him in. He bit Draco’s lower lip, _hard_ , and continued to suck on it until Draco opened his mouth and Potter shoved his tongue in. 

Draco moaned around Potter’s tongue and Potter’s grip tightened on Draco’s waist. When they parted, it didn’t take long for Potter’s towel to drop on the floor and Draco to see that he was hard.

Draco licked his lips and looked up at Potter whose eyes were wild and radiant. They were so green that Draco was sure that they were _glowing_. Potter grabbed Draco’s shoulders pushing him down until Draco was on his knees, facing Potter’s erection. He placed a finger on Draco’s chin and tilted his head up so Draco looked at him again. His thumb rubbed over Draco’s lower lip, then Draco’s lips parted, and then Potter slid his cock in Draco’s mouth.

Okay, Draco hadn’t really expected things to escalate so quickly. He _had_ thought he was going to have some fun with Potter; make the git kiss him for torturing him for so many years. Everyone always said how great Potter had been at the Trials and how lucky Draco should feel about the way he had stood for Draco and his family. But now it was Draco’s turn to have some fun. He was going to make Potter _obsessed_ with him. Except, it was Draco who was on his knees, sucking Potter off. It was Draco doing what he always wanted. 

“Yes…” Potter moaned as Draco swirled his tongue around Potter’s prick and took him in deeper. He looked up at Potter who had his head rolled back and his hands were in Draco’s hair, gripping him firmly. 

Draco couldn’t believe that he was doing that to him—to Potter. This was more than the potion, right? A potion couldn’t make you enjoy oral sex. A blowjob from a man. A man you supposedly hated but had still defended. A man… Draco’s thoughts were lost when warm liquid spilled down his throat and Potter’s grasp on his hair tightened. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” Potter muttered as he continued to fuck Draco’s mouth. “So good, Malfoy.”

Potter took his time pulling out of Draco’s mouth, but eventually dropped to his knees. He grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He sucked on Draco’s tongue, moaning, and Draco couldn’t help but wonder what Potter thought about tasting himself on Draco’s tongue. He continued with the kiss, as if he was savouring every moment of it. His taste. Draco’s kiss.

“Is it okay?” Potter asked. 

Draco was so confused. “What’s okay?”

“Kissing you like that, again? You didn’t tell me to—”

“It’s okay, Potter,” Draco answered, smiling. The potion was working. “Alright, against the wall,” he commanded and Potter’s eyes lit up again.

He placed his hands against the wall and spread his legs. Obviously he knew exactly what Draco had meant. Draco smiled, unbuttoning his trousers and grabbed the lube that he’d brought with him. He hadn't been sure if things would progress this far, but he had wanted to be prepared.

He slicked up his fingers and pressed them against Potter, not quite pushing in yet. Potter slightly shivered under the touch and Draco’s first instinct was to retreat. 

“Don’t stop,” Potter said, as if he’d sensed Draco’s hesitation.

“Are you sure?” Draco whispered, his tone teasing.

“Yes! Please, Malfoy.”

Potter was tight. Draco gently pushed one finger in and then another trying to stretch him, but his cock was throbbing so hard that he had trouble being patient. He’d been patient for so long. Watching _her_. Watching her muck up the potion day after day, and now it was finally Draco’s day and he was struggling. He hadn't realised he wanted to fuck Potter so badly. He knew he wanted to have his fun, but he hadn’t expected his need to overwhelm him like that.

“I’m ready, Malfoy. Just do it,” Potter said, conveniently reading Draco’s mind again. 

“You want that?” Draco whispered. “You want me to fuck you, Potter?”

Potter pushed back, clenching himself tightly around Draco’s fingers. There was his answer.

Draco slicked up his cock and lined it up against Potter’s hole. He pushed in swiftly and felt Potter gasp under him. Potter’s right hand banged against the wall and then clenched up in a tight fist. 

“Sorry,” Draco said, afraid that he’d actually hurt Potter.

“No. Do it again!” Potter replied and rested his head against the wall. 

“You’re sur—”

“Fuck… fuck me, Malfoy.” Potter was begging again and Draco’s cock pulsated with need; his and Potter’s.

Draco pulled out and pushed in again, and again, until the movement was so relaxed, it was like they’d been doing this for _ages_. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find a new angle, and it seemed to work as Potter released a different kind of moan from underneath him. 

“Yeah. Right there,” Potter said and Draco started to pound into him from the new angle. 

The new position worked for Draco, too. He was panting, biting his lower lip so Potter did not realise how much he’d loved it. He wanted Potter to beg him more. He wanted Potter to struggle to please _him_. He wanted to have his fun. His plan didn’t work all that great because he didn’t last as long as he would have liked. 

Draco pulled out of Potter, grabbed his wand, and cleaned himself up. As he straightened his clothes, he felt Potter watching him. “Yes?” he asked.

“Where are you going?” Potter’s voice was anxious.

“I’ve to get to dinner. Or they’ll notice _our_ absence,” Draco replied and handed the bottle of water back to Potter. There was still a little bit of liquid left.

Potter gulped it. “Right,” he said, looking confused and a bit—if Draco might say so himself—distraught. “When can I see you again?”

Draco didn’t respond right away. He waited a while, a very long while, until he saw Potter growing impatient. “When is your next practice?” Draco knew _exactly_ when it was. 

“Thursday,” Potter answered quickly, like he was worried that Draco would change his mind.

Four days. _She_ would probably start working on the new potion straightaway, Draco reckoned, so it _would_ be ready in four days. “Alright, see you Thursday, then?”

“You promise?” Potter asked, his eyes wide with hope.

Draco nodded. In four days, if he didn’t have more of the potion, whatever Potter felt now, would already be gone. It didn’t matter if Draco promised to see Potter on Thursday.

“I’ll try,” he answered and turned to leave the changing rooms. 

Potter pulled on Draco’s arm, his grip was tight, and he nuzzled into Draco’s neck before kissing him on the lips again. “Don’t try. Promise.”

“I promise,” Draco said impulsively. _Shite_. He was so screwed.

**

The next day, Draco returned to the classroom and saw her looking distressed. She’d been running around the room frantically like she’d lost something—she had indeed lost something—but wouldn’t tell anyone what was wrong.

An hour later, she was back at it. 

Draco watched her for two days as she brewed the potion. By now, she’d figured out the process so she was able to brew it fast enough. This time as Draco watched her pour the potion into the phial, he placed a Notice-Me-Not spell on himself, to be sure. She did not spot him.

She placed the phial next to the cauldron and Draco flicked his wand so the cauldrons at the next table clattered. She screamed, startled by the banging noises and turned to stack them up. Draco used the distraction to his advantage. He ran towards her work station and grabbed the phial. He’d brought a similar looking container with him to the classroom and replaced the phial with one that was filled with pumpkin juice.

The phial she was using was not clear so it didn’t matter what Draco had put in it and pumpkin juice was the first thing he’d manage to attain that morning. By the time her attention was diverted back to her task, Draco had left the room. 

He rushed down the hall towards the Slytherin dorms when he crashed into another student; his things scattering all over the floor. 

“Fucking hell!” Draco exclaimed and bent down to gather the contents of his bag.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, and Draco looked up to realise that the student he’d bumped into was Potter. “Oh,” he said, uncertain if this was really happening. Was it a dream? 

“I was looking for you,” Potter said, helping Draco collect his belongings.

“You were?” Draco asked, standing up. He clutched his bag tightly, feeling the warmth of the potion phial under his hands. “Why?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Potter gathered Draco into a tight embrace and nuzzled into his neck. “I wanted to see you sooner than Thursday.” Draco didn’t respond, simply because he was enjoying the feeling of Potter’s body against his. “I thought you’d want to see me," Potter said. “You came to me…”

“Of course, I want to see you, Potter,” Draco answered hurriedly. “But we can’t be seen together.” He pulled back and brushed his fingers through Potter’s hair. Potter leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, and Draco realised how different he looked up close with his glasses on. Draco wasn’t sure which he liked more. 

“I can sneak into the dungeons tonight. After curfew. I can meet you in the Slytherin Common Room.”

“To have sex?” Draco asked. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he had never guessed that Potter would be interested in sex in the Common Room. What did those Gryffindors get up to? 

“No. Not just that.” Potter laughed. “I just want to see you again. Maybe…I don’t know…” He bit his lower lip. Was the bloke actually _shy_?

“Okay,” Draco said, saving himself and Potter the embarrassment of clichéd discomfort. “Tomorrow. The password is The House Cup,” he added, rolling his eyes.

Potter chuckled. “That’s okay, the Gryffindor password is: Beat Slytherin. I’ll see you tomorrow night!” He pulled Draco in a long, deep kiss that left him whimpering.

Draco wasn’t sure if the potion was working correctly. He wasn’t supposed to feel so shaken whenever Potter touched him; he was supposed to be the one in control. Then why was it that every time Potter kissed him, he felt like he was falling?

“I’ll see you at eleven o’clock, Potter. Don’t be late.” Draco tried to sound resolute, and hoped that he came across that way. Potter nodded and kissed him again before he ran away, disappearing into the dark hallway.

**

Eighth year so far had been a joke. Draco was on top of all of his classes, he finished his homework off in a whiff, and spent most of his free time sleeping. He’d felt like he’d not had a decent night’s sleep since fourth year, and now he was simply making up for it.

Unsure of what the future still held for him, Draco was trying to enjoy his spare time. But since the night he’d shagged Potter, he barely slept. He’d told Potter to come to the Slytherin Common Room the next night, and now, he was going mad. He wanted to see Potter right then and there. He wanted to haul Potter into his dorm room, kick his roommates out, and tie the man to his bed. 

What in the bloody hell was wrong with him?

Was the potion supposed to make _him_ a sex-crazed maniac, too? What was _she_ planning to do with Potter and the potion? Was she trying to get pregnant? Draco realised that this was more than a lust potion that would last for days, it was a _sex_ potion. It would make the recipient not just obsessed with the other person, but would want to have sex with them. All the time. 

He was mildly impressed with her devious plan. Surprised, that she wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.

The next night when Draco arrived at the Common Room, it was empty and he found Potter waiting for him on an armchair tucked away in the corner. His face lit up when he saw Draco and then his gaze fell on the two tumblers that Draco was holding. 

“Wine,” Draco said and Potter smiled again. He stood up to greet Draco and frowned immediately when he didn’t approach him but instead sat in front of the fireplace.

“Come here,” Draco said and offered a glass of wine to Potter.

Potter took a sip from it and made a funny face. “It tastes weird,” he said.

“Well, have you had a lot of wine before?” Draco asked and Potter shook his head. “Then how do you know it doesn’t taste right? Maybe it’s you who’s weird.”

Potter smiled and took another gulp of his drink. Draco watched him until Potter knelt down and sat next to Draco. “Missed you,” he whispered into Draco’s ear and started to nibble on it.

“Potter…” Draco struggled to get away from him but Potter was biting and moaning into his ear. He was getting hard already and needed to pace himself. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“About an hour. I came in with some students so I wouldn’t be caught and thought… _hoped_ … that you’d come down early.” Potter didn’t stop kissing and licking Draco’s neck and as his kisses became deeper, Potter’s hands were becoming bolder. He squeezed Draco’s thigh before his hand rested on the bulge in Draco’s trousers and grasped it. 

Draco released a low groan of satisfaction while he was trying to firmly protest. It was _not_ happening. 

“Potter…” Draco whispered again, struggling again to protest, to tell Potter to slow down.

“Need you,” Potter growled in his ear.

“Yeah?” Draco found himself asking. Potter nodded and his hands tried to unbutton Draco’s trousers. “Finish your wine,” Draco commanded and he did the same. Except, his wine wasn’t laced with the potion.

Potter gulped the rest of the drink in one swift swig and wiped his mouth. It was the unclassiest way Draco had seen _anyone_ drink wine, but he still found it sexy.

“You know, I think I like the wine after all,” Potter said, taking his tumbler and Draco’s tumbler and placing them on one of the side tables.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I like the way it makes me feel.”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Like, I am on top of the world. And you’re there with me.” Potter grinned, and Draco didn’t know what the phrase meant before that night, but he was sure that his heart had just melted.

He grabbed the back of Potter’s neck and pulled him close. Their lips brushed but Potter hadn’t reacted. He was allowing Draco to claim him, claim his lips, maybe whatever else he wanted. 

“Do you have your wand?” Draco whispered against Potter’s lips and Potter released a deep breath, and then nodded. “Privacy charm,” he said and Potter nodded again.

That night, they went at it like the world was ending. Like, the war was upon them again and the touch for Potter’s skin was the last thing Draco wanted to feel, and he could die a happy man the next day. Hell, he would have died _for_ Potter, the next day. 

Draco rode Potter slow. He took his time going up and down on Potter’s cock and Potter watched him with such a look in his eyes that Draco was sure that if he weren’t already sitting, he’d have trouble grasping his bearings and would fall.

“Do you like that?” Potter asked him, starting to tug on Draco’s cock, and matching the rhythm of Draco’s breaths. 

“Yeah, I lik—I love that, Potter,” Draco answered, arching his back, as he took Potter inside him, deeper than before. Deeper than any other man before, in his body—and maybe even his heart.

“It’s so good, _Draco_ ,” Potter murmured against Draco’s skin; his mouth on Draco’s neck. 

Draco tensed up; Potter had tensed up underneath him, as well. “Is that okay?” Potter asked, sounding nervous. “I didn’t mean to, it just came out—”

Draco smiled and leaned in kissing Potter. “It’s okay,” he assured Potter. “I just—caught me by surprise, is all.”

Potter smiled again and returned to his task at hand. His lips on Draco’s neck, his left hand resting on Draco’s lower back, and his right tugging on Draco’s cock. Draco came first, and as he spilled on Potter’s chest, Potter leaned back and sped up his thrusts into Draco. A minute later, he was climaxing and Draco made the mistake of looking into Potter’s eyes as he came. The tenderness and the adoration were almost too much. Draco realised he liked that look in Potter’s eyes, and then he also realised that it was a potion-induced look, not real love.

Draco collapsed, and Potter held him on his chest. It was all too serene. It was like Potter knew that something was wrong and he caressed Draco’s back trying to soothe him.

They stayed that way for a while and eventually Draco cleaned them up. By the time Potter left, it was past three o’clock in the morning and Draco returned quietly to his dorm room. He’d placed a silencing charm so he wouldn’t wake his roommates.

He lay in bed for another hour, wide awake and sore. He wondered what it all meant and how long this would continue. Could he keep stealing the potion from her so _he_ could fuck Potter instead of her? What if one day, Potter told him that he loved him, and what if Draco wanted to say it back?

**

Things continued like this for weeks. Draco watched her brew the potion, and found interesting and convenient ways of stealing it from her. Most of the times he’d leave pumpkin juice in the phials, but sometimes, he’d leave her a shot of Firewhisky or wine, to make up for his actions.

Every other night, Potter would sneak into the Slytherin Common Room and they’d go at it for hours until they were limp, sore, and so tender that the act of putting clothes back on was too much. Sometimes, Draco would catch Potter when he thought Draco wasn’t looking and see him just smile at nothing in particular. Potter would be looking at the glass of wine he’d be drinking and grin like he was in heaven. 

But it was Draco who felt like he was in heaven. He had Potter answering to his whims, and even stealing glances at him in the Great Hall during dinner time. It wasn’t until Potter had uttered those dreaded words that Draco felt the need to stop their rendezvous.

Potter was pressed against the sofa and Draco had mounted him from behind. “God, I love you, Draco,” Potter had said as Draco came inside him. 

Since he was behind Potter, Draco thought about ignoring Potter’s words. But later that night, as they were saying their goodbyes, Potter had pulled him in for a hug and whispered the words to him again.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Draco told him; not sure why he needed to _say_ that to Potter. Deciding to no longer give him the potion would have ended things, anyway.

“What?” Potter all but shrieked his question. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Draco said, trying to diffuse the situation. Maybe talking about no longer fucking at half past three in the morning was not the best of ideas. “I’ll see you during breakfast, yeah?”

Potter nodded, looking uncertain. “Maybe I should stay the night.”

“Stay the night?” Draco asked, confused. “Where would you sleep?”

“In your bed, of course!” Potter answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “My friends already know I’m seeing someone, and I’m okay with coming out. Telling everyone…”

“No, Potter.” Draco saw a look of rage in Potter’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen directed at him in a very long time. “Not yet. Let me think about this for a few days, okay? I’ll send you a message when I’m ready to see you again. And we can talk about—telling our friends.” Draco almost laughed at that. He didn’t really have any friends left.

“You promise?” Potter asked holding Draco's shoulders firmly so he had to look in Potter's eyes as he spoke

“Yes, Potter. _Harry_ , I mean. I promise,” Draco replied and kissed Potter, realising that it would probably be their last kiss.

“I’ll see you again, Draco,” Potter said, sounding resolute, and yet again, sounding like he had read Draco’s mind.

**

The next day, Draco skipped breakfast. Instead, he headed off to Slughorn’s office to deliver a letter. On an untraceable parchment, which he'd ordered from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes via owl, he wrote an anonymous grievance for Professor Slughorn. He stated that some of his students were experimenting in Dark potion making. Draco listed the ingredients being used and advised the professor to check his stocks.

He was in and out of Slughorn’s office before breakfast was over and continued to go about his day, doing his best to avoid Potter.

When Draco entered Slughorn’s classroom during his free period, _she_ looked cross. She was whining to her friends about getting detention from Slughorn over theft, and that the professor had told her that she was lucky that he hadn’t called her parents.

Draco smirked to himself. _He_ should have called her parents. 

But he dismissed the thought and focused on his classwork. He struggled to not think about how he no longer had access to the potion, short of making it himself, and that he no longer had access to Potter, either. 

On his way back from supper, Draco made sure that he wasn’t alone. He found Professor Slughorn and reminded him that it was time to change the password for the Slytherin dungeons. Slughorn agreed, and the password was changed from The House Cup to The Slug Club. Draco thought it was rather unimaginative but at least it wasn’t the other option: Why Even Bother.

He wondered how long he could go without breakfast. He knew Potter’s schedule well enough to know that he could avoid him during lunch and Potter wouldn’t dare try anything during supper, but breakfast was always tricky. 

Several times during the last weeks, Potter had managed to corner Draco after breakfast for snogging sessions as he had hidden them under his Invisibility Cloak. Until the potion wore off completely, Draco thought, it would be best to avoid breakfast.

For a week, Draco paid a first-year named Joseph to go to the kitchens early and bring him something to eat. Eventually, on a Saturday, the student refused because he claimed that he’d been “stopped by Harry Potter,” and was told that he was “breaking school rules.”

Draco snorted – Potter telling a first-year that he was breaking school rules. 

Joseph talked about how nice Harry Potter was, and he wasn’t going to tell on him, and that if others wanted breakfast then they should go to the Great Hall themselves to get it, “regardless of the fact that they were stubborn blond gits who couldn’t just face a problem head-on.” Draco’s heart ached.

Joseph claimed that he hadn’t told Potter who he was bringing breakfast for and Draco believed him. It wasn’t really surprising that Potter could predict Draco’s actions. But Draco was just waiting for the potion to wear off and for Potter to go back to hating him. His only regret was that he could not forget the thirty-seven times they fucked in every way imaginable. He still ached with the need. 

Draco would forget that he knew the taste of Potter’s mouth better than the taste of his favourite sweets, that he still touched himself every night remembering the feeling of Potter’s hands on him—Potter’s hot breath in his ear as he’d climax.

“I don’t understand why you pretend you don’t care when you’re really just going to spend the day in your bed with the memories of my tongue in your arse.”

Draco snapped his eyes open as he looked around the room and saw no one. At first he thought he was imagining things, then he realised what really was happening, and then he sighed. 

“It isn’t polite to sneak up on people under your Invisibility Cloak,” he said. “Or have you forgotten what happened the last time?”

He felt the bed dip slightly and waited as Potter removed his Cloak and revealed himself. “Oh, I remember very well. One doesn’t forget getting one's nose broken.”

“Well, you did get your revenge after, didn’t you?” Draco asked, regretting his choice of words immediately. These were all things of the past. These were all things from two years before. Why was he bringing them up?

Potter sighed and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. “Is this why you’re punishing me?”

“What do you mean?”

“All of a sudden you remember that we hated each other, so now that I actually lov— now that we shared something special, you’ve decided to end things. On your own accord? Without any input from me.”

“I’m not punishing you, or taking out some sort of revenge.” Draco sat up on the bed. 

Potter removed his shoes, sat across from Draco, and crossed his legs. “Then, why?”

“Potter…We shouldn’t have… It wasn’t right.”

“Why not?”

“Because you weren’t yourself when that happened. You just need to wait another week, and then you’ll be fine.” Draco struggled when Potter placed his hand on his ankle.

“Why would something change in a week when it hasn’t changed in months, years, even?”

Draco didn’t understand. “What are you talking about?”

“I love you, Draco. I mean, maybe I didn’t love you before, but I knew there was something—there was something between us and that day, when you came to me after Quidditch practice. It was like everything made sense and you were there with me and we did—”

“You were drugged, Potter.”

“Drugged?” Potter looked confused. He shook his head as if he didn't believe what Draco said was true. “Are you talking about the thing you put in my drinks?”

Draco gaped at him. Stunned silent.

“Sure.” Potter shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t know before. But after the first few times, I figured it out. I’d wake up the next day, feeling like I was hung over. I didn’t come and see you just to have sex, but that’s what we’d end up doing. I mean we talked and stuff too, and played chess, but we’d _always_ have sex. We must have shagged like…forty times in the past month! That’s not normal! Not that I would know what normal is. I mean you were my first—”

“I was?” Draco asked, shocked. “Wait…what did you think I was putting in your drinks if you knew…”

Potter shrugged again. “I dunno. I thought you put in some sort of an elixir for sexual performance. I didn’t mind it. I loved being with you like that. But, it’s not what I wanted, I wanted to talk to you, get to know you and we started—from day one and—”

“Potter, I told you to kiss me that day in the changing rooms, and you didn’t even hesitate. You kissed me right away. I was controlling your actions—” 

Potter laughed.

“What is so funny?” Draco spat.

“I kissed you because it was the first time you even _talked_ to me after the Trials, and I’d been trying to get your attention since the school year started. You came into the changing rooms, looked at me like I was something to eat, and then told me to kiss you. You weren’t controlling my actions, Draco, you were making my wet dream come true!”

“Wait, so you—”

“Liked you, yeah.”

“And all this time—”

“I came to see you because I had this uncontrollable desire to have sex with you, but not for a second did I question it because I had wanted that for—for a very long time.”

“And you haven’t taken the potion for over a week,” Draco said, more to himself than anything else.

“No. Not since you haven’t given me a glass of wine or water, or whatever else you used as an excuse for me to drink…” Potter paused for a minute. “What was the potion supposed to do anyway?”

“Will you to my command.”

“That wouldn’t have been too hard,” Potter said.

“And make you obsessed with me.”

“ _Again_ , not something that you needed a potion for, Malfoy.”

Draco didn’t answer. He was nearly rendered speechless. He stared at Potter as Potter got closer and closer to him; until he had Draco pinned down on the bed and was on top. 

“Don’t…don’t fuck with me, Potter. Because—”

“Because?” Potter challenged, one eyebrow raised.

“Because I’m in love with you and I can’t justify using a potion to make you think you love me too. Because I can’t live like that and because I’ll die—if you don’t love me back.”

“Draco…” Potter whispered against Draco’s neck and Draco could already feel the difference between this Potter and the Potter that was under the influence of the potion. This one had more command, but the need, the desperation was the same. 

Potter’s erection pressed against Draco’s leg and he lowered himself onto Draco, eventually biting into Draco’s skin and finding home there. “I love you, too. And don’t you _dare_ try to distance yourself away from me like that again. If need be, I will go and hunt down this damn potion of yours and succumb you to my will. Don’t think I won’t.”

“I believe it. I believe it, Potter.”

“Harry,” Potter growled. 

“Harry,” Draco responded.

“Good. Now let’s go and have lunch.” Potter got up off the bed and started to tie his shoes on.

“Really?” Draco whined. “You want to have lunch?”

“Yeah. I’m starving. I’ve been trolling the doors all morning, waiting for you to come out of the dungeons.”

“I thought you said you’d easily will to my command?” Draco asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. And what is it that you command, then?” Potter asked, stopping half way through tying his shoes.

“Close the door, place a privacy charm, and get back in bed, _Harry_ ,” Draco said. He pushed off his covers and began to undress himself.

* * *

THE END


End file.
